The Wig Stand

The beginning of our journey began with a special wig stand connecting patients and sharing their stories. Here’s her story, in her own words:

A few years ago, I was just another pretty face in a dusty window display. There were dozens of others just like me on that shelf, gazing out emptily unto the street. My makeup never seemed to smudge and life was good, but I longed for one thing to feel complete:

Hair.

I saw people outside with it all the time. There were so many different styles and I wondered to myself: What would it be like to have some of my own?

One day a woman came into the store and decided to take me back home with her. The salesman (or “greasy fingers” as we used to call him) grabbed me by the neck and plunged me into a plastic bag.

This was the beginning of my journey.

Once we got home, the woman placed me on her dresser, right by her jewelry box. I could see the hesitation growing in her eyes as she looked into mine. She then pulled her wig off her head and put it onto mine.

It was warm and soft, even better than I’d imagined – I finally had hair!

We took turns with it from then on: she’d wear it during the day and I’d wear it at night. I wouldn’t move at all to keep the hair in place for her to wear the next day. Every once in a while, she’d wash it and I’d soak in the lovely smell of shampoo when she put it back on my head.

We developed a special bond through that wig. Hardly anyone saw her without it on – except for her family and me (does that mean I’m family?). I wish I could have told her that she still looked beautiful even without it on. Some nights when she was feeling especially lonely, she’d talk to me and share what she was going through. She knew I wouldn’t tell anyone how sick she was really feeling.

After a few months, things started to change. The wig started staying on my head longer and longer.

I was worried: Had I been replaced? Was I no longer needed?

One day out of the blue, she wrapped me up and placed me in the closet (with the hair we used to share). It was so lonely in there with nothing more than clothes on both sides.

No one to look at and nothing to do.

Time stood still.

Plus, the wig was growing quite itchy.

Just when I’d almost given up and was planning my escape, a familiar hand pulled me out of the closet. She dusted me off and shined my face.

I felt brand-new again!

That day, she introduced me to another woman wearing a blonde wig (I’d become a pro at spotting them). She looked at me strangely at first but ended up taking me home with her.

What would this next adventure have in store for me?

I’d find out soon enough and so will you..

Wanna read more? Below are more stories from the wig stand and the patients she’s spent time with:

I was watching Future TV channel this morning and got introduced to it and couldn’t wait to open the website to learn more ( since I had a family member died from cancer ), and once I clicked on my story section and started reading I wished it won’t end from those giving hope words, to all those who are batteling cancer you’re strong enough to beat it, and would love to give support in any way to this movement if I can name it by that, keep up the good work or better yet the great work of yours, thank you Loryne Atoui for your efforts, and bless you all🙂

We’ve been through so many journeys, but none quite like our little journey that started in 2011 when I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

I had a 15-years-old boy, 14-years-old girl and a 5-years-old girl. I cannot describe the feeling of being upset about the cancer. My world was to fall apart again. I needed chemotherapy as well a mastectomy. I was expecting to be bad, but nothing prepared me for what I went through. My hair started to fall out and then I shave it all. My family and especially my elder daughter supported me a lot.

Following a mastectomy and reconstraction I was finally on the road to recovery. Three months of chemotherapy followed and my treatment was complete. It was the best feeling ever. I was told that cancer takes a year out of your life and then you’re on the journey home, and it was true.

My wonderfull lovely mum was amazing throughout, my daughter kept me going and carried on loving me throughout. Physically I’m ok, but mentally I’m not sure at times. I still have meltdowns now and again, but I have to think about how lucky I am to be here and what a lovely future I have with my family.